Hi. Tim is off at some fancy “Meet the Media” event at Fringe central, but he asked me to write something about our Edinburgh adventure for this blog.
I lied and told him I couldn’t work because it was the Sabbath. He gave me a worried, bewildered look. It is one of my favourite pieces in the gallery of his expressions. Tomorrow I’m going to claim it’s still the Sabbath. Then again on Monday. I wonder when he’ll catch on.
But now is not the time for sloth. Edinburgh is loud. There is a constant clamour that extends across all the senses. A dull, constant assault. It feels almost homely. People turn inwards in response to the barrage, blind themselves to the world.
And that brings me to the subject of flyering. Phb describes marketing in Edinburgh as an arms race. More and more money spent each year to maintain a place in peoples’ awareness. As we wander the streets, bored sounding people try and give us flyers for shows they have not seen. That they do not care about.
I love a good flyer. Flyers are paper temptation. They’re an unsigned contract. But you don’t seal the deal with a contract alone. It takes a hook. Maybe in the head. Maybe in the heart.
Maybe simply in the hand.
Tonight, I’m going to take Tim out flyering for our first performance of the Fringe. See if I can’t teach him a thing or two.
Yours ever faithfully,